


You Made Me Believe

by Crossroads_Blues



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Author Is Sleep Deprived, Casa Erotica (Supernatural), Episode: s02e15 Tall Tales, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Fluff, Fluff in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Gabriel And His Kiebasa, M/M, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, POV Sam Winchester, Romantic Soulmates, Sam Winchester-centric, Slow Build Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tall Tales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:47:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crossroads_Blues/pseuds/Crossroads_Blues
Summary: Sam Winchester didn’t believe in soulmates. However this is about to change as Sam encounters his soulmate and goes on a long journey of accepting his feelings.





	You Made Me Believe

**Author's Note:**

> So this was for "Soulmate AU" prompt for @spnfluffbingo on Tumblr. I tried.  
> p.s English is not native and not beta read so sorry for any errors. Hope you enjoy it:)

Sam Winchester didn’t believe in soulmates. As simple as that. Everything about an idea of a person being assigned to you by cosmic powers through a tattoo on your body disgusted him. It was the predefined destiny, it was the total and absolute obsession with finding one’s soulmate, hell, it was having something on your body that you didn’t consent to. It was because of all these reasons and a little bit more that Sam wasn’t happy on his 16th  birthday. He layed in bed in some crappy motel, being too afraid to open his eyes and see his soulmark. His Dad told him and Dean about soulmarks. Soulmarks were a black and white tattoos that became coloured once you touched the skin of your soulmate. The drawings represented your soulmate and the completed pair was supposed to represent the relationship with your soulmate. Dean got his soulmark 4 years prior, a pair of angel wings stretched across his chest. Dean wasn’t as negative as Sam was of the idea of soulmates, but he also wasn’t overly fond of it. He wasn’t overall fond of the idea of settling down with someone, so the older Winchester never put much thought in finding his soulmate. “Sammy, this mark? It don’t mean squat. It ain’t worth shit. It’s just a mark. You can lead your life the way you want it. Don’t let some cosmic powers define it,” said Dean the evening before Sam’s 16th birthday and Sam held on to his words in the sleepless night, dreading falling asleep and dreading waking up to see something… foreign and permanent on his skin. Eventually, of course, he did fall asleep and now he was laying in bed, stalling the moment when he had to open his eyes. 

“Sam! Wake up, we gotta go!” he heard his father’s voice from the other room. Right, they were on a hunt. He couldn’t afford to pretend to be asleep any longer. He slowly opened his eyes and the first thing he did was glance at his hands and check that there was no mark there. He saw people who had marks on their hands and he was terrified of the idea of everyone just being able to see his mark. The soulmark felt way too personal to be exposed to the world. Thankfully, the skin of his hands was clean. Sam exhaled with relief. He slowly got out from the bed, glancing down at his body clad in pyjama flannel pants and a tank top. The mark wasn’t visible anywhere. Sam quietly laughed, relieved. If he couldn’t see his soulmark, it means that other people can’t either and he can happily spend the rest of his life with his soulmark covered by clothes. 

“Happy Birthday!” Dean barged into the room. Sam looked up at him and immediately saw Dean’s face change. His eyebrows shot up as a slight frown appeared on his lips.

“Dean, what’s the problem?” asked Sam, still examining his body on the subject of a soulmark. “I can’t find my soulmark anywhere, you think maybe it just didn't appear on me? That’d be nice.”

Dean cringed and gently took Sam by the shoulders and led him to the bathroom. 

“Please don’t freak out.” With these words, Dean opened the door to the bathroom and turned on the light. Sam quietly gasped as he gazed at his reflection. From the start of his neck up to his eye covering most of the right side of his face, going above the brow stretched a branch with fourteen tiny roses on it that had angel wings instead of petals.

“Oh shit,” murmured Sam, examining the tattoo. As he traced the outlines of the branch with his fingers, he felt his hatred for the soulmark grow as he tried to keep himself from scraping the tattoo off with a razor.

* * *

 

Sam Winchester never seeked his soulmate. It was against his rebellious nature to give in to the cosmic powers and live his life with destined soulmate, so he preferred to have as much of his skin covered as possible to avoid accidental touches. The floral soulmark earned him a lot of glances and unwanted attention, so let his hair grow out to cover the soulmark, which wasn't doing much, however. When Sam got together with Jess, he couldn't help but notice that her mark - a guitar covering most of her left thigh - was already coloured, while his roses stayed gray. When he asked her about brown guitar, she just shook her head solemnly and quietly said that things don’t always work out. They never spoke about that again. His soulmark didn’t glow up when he touched Sarah. Nor did it color up when he slept with Madison. Perhaps that was for the best, considering the circumstances of their meeting. And then there was this case.

The case was crazy from the very beginning. The aliens, the crazy spirit, the alligators. Bonkers. Ultimately, it all boiled down to the confrontation in the stage room. The ‘monster of the week’ turned out to be a Trickster. A rather handsome one, if you ask Sam. Not that Sam was into… guys, or anything. But objectively - objectively - the janitor Trickster was cute. Anyway it didn’t matter, the guy was dangerous and was killing people. They had to take him out. 

“Nice toss, ladies! Nice show!” The Trickster stood up and clapped his hands, as the illusions of the women threw Dean at a row of seats. Sam was being strangled by one of Trickster’s illusions, but both he and Dean spotted the spare stake that was lying close enough to be tossed by Sam to Dean. 

“Dean... Dean, Dean, Dean. “ The Trickster almost looked pitiful and Sam couldn’t help but notice he had cute eyes. “I did not want to have to do this.”

At this moment, Sam got free of the chokehold enough to toss the stake to Dean who caught it and masterfully wielded it, stabbing the Trickster. “Me neither,” replied the older Winchester, as he stared down the body.   
As they were driving in the Impala away from the city, Sam couldn’t help but feel just a little bit sad. Sure the fight was brief, Sam didn’t even get anywhere near the Trickster, the guy was taken out, case closed, but… there was something about the janitor that made Sam just a tiniest bit sad that they had to kill him. Just the tiniest bit. 

And then came the clusterfuck of the demon deal. Sam had never felt so lost and in despair, as Dean’s borrowed time was ticking away. And a hundred plus worth of Tuesdays worth of Dean’s deaths didn’t really help. And then it hit him. It hit him with the strawberry syrup and non existent wormholes. Sam raced after the guy and pinned him down with a stake.

“Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids, for crying out loud I sell ad space—” stuttered the man, still acting his role.

“Don't lie to me! I know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!” Sam further pressed the stake to the man’s throat. 

“Actually, bucko, you didn't,” with a smug grin informed him the man, as he morphed into the Trickster.

Sam exhaled loudly, irritated. “Why are you doing this?” 

“You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?” The Trickster raised his eyebrows and smirked.

“And Hasselback, what about him?” added Dean from the background.

Trickster’s eyes darted to the upper right, as if trying to figure out who Dean was talking about. “That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one.” He chuckled, happy with his trick well done.

Suddenly a frown appeared on his face, as he angrily continued, “Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town.”

“So this is fun for you?” Sam leaned forward, feeling murderous rage boil in his veins. “Killing Dean over and over again?”

Trickster thought for a second. “One, yes. It is fun.” 

Sam couldn’t take it. The guy crossed the line. Talking like that,  _ doing this to his brother,  _ nobody does that and lives. Nobody. And in that moment, Sam didn’t think that he was facing a demigod, a creature powerful enough to warp reality to its whims. He just saw a guy who was killing his brother over and over again and laughing at it. Sam acted on the heat of the moment and slapped the Trickster on the face. “You don’t get to do that to my brother and laugh about that,” he whispered, a menacing light flickering in his eyes.

And as a red handprint appeared on the Trickster’s face, Sam felt the right half of his face burn as his right eye barely registered a flash of golden light. Trickster’s face went from smug to terrified, as something glowed right underneath the collar of his shirt.

“What the hell…” Sam touched the source of burning on his face and winced from the sensation.

“Sammy…” Dean stared wide-eyed at him. “Your soulmark…”

Sam gazed back at Dean, with slightly open mouth and raised forehead. “What’s with my soulmark?”   
Dean produced his mobile and snapped a quick picture of Sam, still holding the Trickster to the fence. He then showed the result to Sam, with slightly shaking hands. “It’s golden.”

Sam stared at the picture of himself, dumbfounded. Sam’s face on the picture, with a horrified expression, was decorated by a hickory branch with medallion golden roses on it. 

“Aw, shit.” Sam touched his soulmark once again and turned around to face the Trickster, who was looking at something under his shirt. With one swift movement, Sam  tore the shirt open to reveal a currant red, with a metallic touch, Taurus PT92AFS tattooed on Trickster’s chest.

“That’s my gun…” murmured Sam, not believing a thing that was happening. “Is this another one of your tricks?” Sam nearly jammed the stake into Trickster’s throat, but the latter one just shook his head. 

“I’m all out of tricks for today, chuckles.” With these words the Trickster vanished into air, leaving Sam and Dean just standing there in confusion.

“What the-” Sam was cut short, as he once again woke up in the motel room. 

“Promise me I'll be back in time...”  roared the radio, as the calendar displayed Wednesday. 

“It's Wednesday,” murmured Sam.

“Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off,” commented Dean, as he stuffed his clothes into his duffle.

Sam quickly got out of the covers and gave Dean a long, perhaps way too long hug. He was just glad to be out of the Dean Dying Tuesday loop.

Dean laughed quietly. “Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?” he said, patting Sam on the back.

“Enough.” Sam pulled out of the hug and furrowed his brows. “What, uh, what do you remember?”

“I remember you were pretty whacked out of it yesterday. I remember getting up with the Trickster.” Dean hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Sam’s face. “I remember his soulmark being your gun and I remember it turning red. Becoming colored. Just like the roses on your face. That’s it. He must’ve knocked us out.”

Sam sighed. “They’re still golden?”

Dean nodded with a frown.

“So it wasn’t a dream.” Sam huffed. “Can you believe it? My soulmate being a frigging demigod and an asshole. Peachy! Joy!” he exclaimed sarcastically, pacing around the room. The fact that his soulmate was a man didn’t bother him at all, it was the major doucheness of the said soulmate that was a problem.

“Sammy.” Dean caught him by his shoulders and stopped him. “Remember what I told you? The mark is just… a suggestion.” Dean looked him dead in the eye.

“Yeah, but now I have to walk around with yellow roses on my face! At least they were grey before, now they are freaking yellow!”

Dean gave the roses on Sam’s face a judging look. “They match your inner sunshine,” he finally commented and, laughing, headed into the bathroom.

Sam groaned. “Jerk.”

“Bitch!”

* * *

 

Sam Winchester didn’t see his soulmate for a while after that. Sam’s been… busy, way too busy to care about his soulmate. Dean going to hell, angels, Dean getting his soulmate (those wings were frigging glowing when Dean got out of hell and were constantly changing colors up until Dean finally met Castiel in that barn and they finally set on being ebony color with hints of silver and grey in them), Sam’s little addiction, Ruby, Lucifer, Horsemen… Stuff has been happening and Sam hasn’t been caring much about his soulmate. Not that the latter one was acting up particularly. The Trickster’s been quiet, seriously quiet. 

Next time Sam saw his soulmate wasn’t in real life. One day Sam found a Casa Erotica 13 on his bed with a label “For you from a dearest friend”, assumed it was from Dean, questioned why Dean would give it to him, since he always joked on Dean for watching those and decided to watch it just to see what his brother got him. He pressed play on the TV. It started as usual, with a ‘Dear Diary’ narration from the woman. Sam furrowed his brows and with a frown looked at the screen. 

“What you doing?” he suddenly heard Dean’s voice in the halfway.

“I, uh, found your gift and am questioning the logic behind it.” Sam paused the video on his laptop and turned it around to show Dean.

“What do you mean, I didn’t give it to you.” Dean dumped his leather jacket in the corner and settled on the couch near Sam. 

“I found it on the bed with a “For you from a dearest friend” label. I thought it was from you,” Sam raised his forehead. “Who put it there, then?”

“Cas?” suggested Dean.

Sam huffed. “I really don’t think so. Anyway…” He resumed the video. On the tape, the door to the hotel room, where woman was sitting opened and the Trickster  appeared, wearing a mustache and a service waiter's outfit. 

“I've got the kielbasa you ordered,” he said with a weird accent.

“Ooh. Polish?”, said the woman, leaning forward.

“Hungarian,” replied Trickster with a smirk and threw  the dish onto the mantle as the tape cut to black and exaggerated smooching sounds that Sam assumed to be produced by Trickster kissing the woman could be heard.

“Well that is disturbing. I don’t think- I don’t think I can unsee that,” mumbled Dean, as his eyes followed the Trickster on the screen passionately making out with the woman, accompanied by moaning sounds.

“What the hell's going on?” muttered Sam, as the video cut to black again. After a second, an image of the Trickster appeared on the screen, who was sitting on the bed of the hotel room, with the woman behind him. He turned to the camera and removed his mustache and begun to speak, addressing the camera.

“Sam, and may I assume Dean as well. You're probably wondering what the hell is this. Well, if you're watching this, I'm dead. Oh please! Stop sobbing, it's embarrassing for all of us. Now, seeing as I am dead, I got a couple of revelations to make. I am…” The Trickster sighed. “I am Archangel Gabriel. Been wearing this pretty face as witness protection.”

“Okay, what?” Sam turned around to Dean. “What the hell?”

Dean made a not bad face and nodded. “The guy is good at disguises, I give him that.”

Gabriel went on to explain how he fled Heaven and how to trap Lucifer using rings of Horsemen. The information proved vital in defeating Lucifer, but there were two things that didn’t let Sam rest easy for years after that day. He couldn’t stop thinking about that even while in Hell, even while suffering from hallucinations, even during his time with Amelia. These two things were that his soulmate was an Archangel and that his soulmate was dead.

* * *

 

Sam Winchester knew his soulmate was dead. And he also knew that all romantic relationships in his line of work were largely a risk. So he just kept going on and on and on, disregarding any opportunities of a family life. And to be honest, life didn't give him many. He just couldn't get a break. At least they moved into the bunker, which was nice. That day Sam was returning to the bunker after one more false lead on removing Mark Of Cain, which was largely disappointing. Dean decided to take a solo hunt - an easy salt'n'burn - in Oklahoma, so Sam expected an alone night. He wasn't particularly disappointed about, he was able to be most productive alone. As he descended into the bunker, he, however heard some jazzy music and smelled chocolate. 

“Dean, why are you back so early?” he shouted to no reply, as he made his way into the kitchen, which seemed to be the source of music. He recognised the song to be Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah and was surprised to say the least at Dean’s choice of music. Unless Dean decided to have an impromptu date with Cas, he couldn’t think of a reason for his brother to listen to Leonard Cohen.

“Dean?” he called out once again and got no reply again. He walked into the kitchen and to his surprise saw nobody other than Gabriel there.

“Hey there, sugar.” Gabriel was sitting on the table, casually eating chocolate candies from a heart-shaped red box. He gestured towards it. “I gotcha a little gift, but they turned out to be freaking delicious and you live on rabbit food anyway so I thought you wouldn’t mind me eating one or two of them.”

Sam stood there, dumbfounded as he female choir sung  _ hallelujah _ . He stared at the archangel with a slightly opened mouth, raised forehead and wide eyes.

“Gabriel? Didn’t you die, like a while ago?”

Gabriel furrowed his brows and shook his head. “I faked my death. Couldn’t surface because angels still have a warrant on my head.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam blurted out.

Gabriel smirked. “Thought I’d drop by to get to know my soulmate.”

Sam squinted. “How did you even know about this place?”

“I hear things.” The archangel raised an eyebrow. 

Sam slowly approached Gabriel. “Don’t assume that just because you’re my soulmate-” 

“I don’t assume anything, cherry pie.” The archangel gracefully jumped from the table and stared right in Sam’s eyes. “I know that we got a history and I know I didn’t make the best first impression.”

“The best?” Sam scoffed. “You killed my brother over 100 times!” 

“And then I helped you stop the Apocalypse! I feel like I redeemed myself!” shouted Gabriel. They both didn’t say anything for two seconds after that.

“You do know that I don’t believe in soulmates, right?” Sam walked up to refrigerator and took out two beers.

Gabriel huffed. “Believe me, neither do I. When I got a frigging gun as my soulmark while all my brothers got something cool and elegant, like swords or fire, I nearly frigging scraped it off with my own nails.”

Sam slightly smiled, remembering his own urge to scrape his soulmark off with a razor and then narrowed his eyes. “But you could always change your vessel?”

Gabriel shook his head. “The soulmark doesn’t just appear on our true form as a binary representation of the picture, it also scorches itself in every vessel we use for the time we use it. I guess it really is cosmic power thing.”

The song changed to Humbled In Love and Sam smiled. Gabriel really knew how to pick a playlist. “Then why are you here?” asked the Winchester.

Gabriel slightly smiled. “I always liked you, Sam. Willing to bet you did too.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “I’ve met you like twice, and you’ve tried to kill my brother both of these times. Oh and the third time I met you, you were starring in porn.”

Gabriel grinned. “That wasn’t porn, that was art!”

Sam’s mouth’s corners twitched up. “Anyway continue on why are you here before I banish you.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows and leaned a bit closer to Sam, who, to his own surprise, didn’t move away. “Feisty,” said the archangel and waggled his eyebrows, “I like it!” He smirked. “I wasn’t looking for my soulmate much. I mean I did kind of want to find the jerk who gave me a gangster tattoo as my soulmark, but I never overstressed about it. Just… living the good easy life.”

Gabriel walked around the table and sat closer to Sam. “And then came you. To tell you the truth, even back at that theater, I liked you. You’re cute to say the least. But you know me, I show my love through annoying the crap out of the subject. So that’s why Dean-Killing-Tuesdays happened. I kind of wanted to see you react to an extreme situation first hand. Plus being stuck with you in 100 Tuesdays wasn’t so bad.”   
Sam laughed. “Have you been crushing on me since 2006?”

“Yeah, so you can see, why I’m trying to get it over with.” Gabriel moved even closer to Sam.

“I don’t believe in soulmates,” restated Sam in a hushed voice, however, slightly leaning towards Gabriel.

“What about matches made in heaven?” muttered the angel, maintaining steady eye contact “Cause I can arrange that.”

Sam smiled slightly. “I bet you could.”

Gabriel hesitantly reached out and tucked Sam’s hair behind his ear, moving slowly, carefully, but when the hunter didn’t flinch or move away, the movement of the angel’s hand became smoother, as he brushed against Sam’s hair. And even though Sam would never admit it, he liked the feeling. Most of his previous hookups were just jumping straight into the hot part of the process and skipping most of the touchy-feely stuff. Sam liked the hesitation with which Gabriel ran his hand through his hair, he liked the way the angel’s eyes lit up when he didn’t back away, he liked the way Gabriel’s hands felt, the warmth that came from them. 

“So do you want to give it a try, Sam?” The angel lingered for a moment near Sam and then leaned slightly back.

Sam didn’t reply anything, just silently drank his beer. “So,” he said after ten seconds of silence, “Gabe, tell me about yourself.”

  
Sam Winchester actually got along well with his soulmate. Gabriel was dropping by the bunker every now and then, sometimes bringing some almost romantic sweet gifts, like chocolates in a heart box, just like the ones he was eating on their first meeting in the bunker, but he never was too pushing with his affections. It was almost as if he was restraining himself. Months went by and nothing changed.

It was a rainy morning and Sam was outside of the bunker, sitting on the porch, drinking his coffee. He liked to be up early and maybe either take a walk or go for a run, but that morning all he wanted to do was just to sit there and drink coffee. It was then that he heard a familiar flapping of wings behind him.

“Gabe,” called out Sam, without even turning around. He knew it was the archangel.

“Samsquatch.” The angel walked up to him from behind, sat near him and swung an arm around him. “You’re all brooding and pensive today, huh? Intense staring at the rain?”

Sam laughed and playfully shook Gabriel’s arm off his shoulder. “Oh, you!”

Gabriel laughed as well. “Mind if I join you?”

Sam shrugged. “Not at all.”   
They spent the next few minutes in silence. After some time the angel spoke up, with a bit hesitation at first. “Hey Sam, I’ve been thinking.”   
“Yeah?”   
“I don’t really know how to say this-” Gabriel giggled “-first time in millennia that I am actually speechless, so I’m just going to say this. Life is short, I guess, so might as well make the most of it.”   
Intrigued Sam put aside his coffee and tilted his head gazing at the angel’s face.

“Now, if you say no and stuff, and this flops, can you promise me that nothing changes and we keep our friendship?” Gabriel intensely stared at the hunter’s face.

“I don’t know what you wanna ask, but I’ll do my best to keep the promise,” with some hesitation replied Sam. In all this time he had really grown accustomed to the archangel and he thought of him as of the closest person he had after Dean.

Gabriel took a deep breath. “Sam Winchester, I love you. And I’m tired of hiding it. I just- I’m tired of constantly holding me back. I love you. And I want to spend my life with you.”   
Sam’s heart plunged. Angel’s words were certainly not what he was expecting, but the were something he was hoping for deep inside. Even though Sam denied it even to himself, perhaps because of his rebellious nature and refusal to accept the idea of soulmates, Gabriel was very special to him. In the romantic kind of way special. Sam didn’t want to make the first move, because he just couldn’t accept that he had actually fallen in love with his soulmate, a thing he thought would never happen to him.  But now that the angel had actually confessed to him, all Sam’s feelings finally made sense to him.   
“Gabe…” Sam felt a lump in his throat forming. “Gabe, I- I love you too.”

Taking that as his go ahead, Gabriel slowly leaned closer to Sam, then hesitated for a second, but then saw Sam lean in as well and proceeded, running his hand through Sam’s gorgeous hair, pulling him closer at the same time and then Sam felt his lips collide with the angel’s and Sam could swear that that was the best feeling in the world. Sam swung his arms around Gabriel, pulling him tighter and letting his body relax in Gabriel’s secure arms, as Gabriel’s usual scent of chocolate filled his senses. They stayed like that for at least five minutes, finally letting the pent up feelings act, releasing all emotions that they’ve been holding back. 

They finally came apart, just to get some air, and then they kissed again, holding each other tight and feeling like letting go was physically impossible.

“I- I love you, Gabe,” muttered Sam once again just to hear himself say it and be comfortable with it.

“I love you too, Sam, I love you too,” murmured the angel as he pulled the hunter closer to him. “I love you too.”

 

Sam Winchester believed in soulmates. His soulmate made him do it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos! No hate or harsh critique please:p


End file.
